


look up and see love has a face

by sultrygoblin



Category: The Stand - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sultrygoblin/pseuds/sultrygoblin
Summary: one shot - it’s about the small things. the simple things. and what is more simple than a girl and boy, both to worried and stubborn to admit they like each other.
Relationships: nick andros/reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	look up and see love has a face

Feeling safe is a strange feeling. Almost as if everything you’d experienced beyond the invisible barriers of the farm had just been a nightmare. Almost. Leaning on a porch beam you ran your hands through your now clean hair, still in awe at how foreign it felt between your fingers already. Something you knew was yours but couldn’t quite remember it. You had experienced the same feeling earlier when you had seen your face completely free of dirt for the first time since this all began it seemed. Even before Captain Tripps, it had never been like this. It had never been happy. But this seemed more than that. Blissfully hopeful. 

* * *

“Well, don’t you tidy up something nice,” how a woman so old could be so sneaky you didn’t know, though that seemed rather low on the totem pole of unknowns about Mother Abigail, “Pretty as a summer’s day,” looking at you as if she could see through you, perhaps she could, it would be the least surprising thing about her truth be told, “But don’t much matter what I think, do it? No,” a twinkle in her eyes.

You shook your head, “It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it?” disbelief more than apparent, “Could’ve fooled me,” gesturing behind her, passed the front door, “I’ll tell him where you are then.”

“Why?’ you shrugged, call it nervousness or the shattering of this dream world, you didn’t know, “Why bother?”

“Because, child, love is all we got,” turning back into the house as if she hadn’t just confused you even further.

All you could do was breathe. Eyes closed, head tilted back, in our, in, out. Why? _Why bother?_ You’d been asking that question for a long time, longer than any person should have to People you loved left, people who claimed to love you are better at hurting you. _Why bother?_ There was the lightest touch against the back of your hand. _Because he bothered._ You open your eyes to his smile and you love it. You have every day since he and Tom found you in that gas station minimart. 

**Wow** , he mouthed circling his finger in the air around your face and hair with a smile.

“Don’t think I’ve ever been this clean before,” he pointed to himself with a nod and you smiled, “Looks like we’ll stay this way too. Truck and all.”

How could he not hear you and you could still sound so awkward? You couldn’t do this. Just because it was beginning to feel easier didn’t mean it ever really would be. The notepad appears in your face, where did you go. Realizing now that your eyes had turned to the house’s peeling siding. You pulled back to him, blue eyes concerned, lips tight. So worried.

“Why’d you ask me along? Back there,” keeping your eyes on him as his darted down and he scribbles hastily.

 **You were alone. And you had to come here** , he’s searching your face as you scan the words, trying so hard not to be disappointed. He’s seen it enough times by now to know. Even if you didn’t know he’d figured it out. He flipped the page, the letters barely legible in his haste, **Tell me where you go. I’ll tell you the truth.**

You gesture to the porch steps and you both sit there, turned to face each other, one of his knees bumping yours, “It’s been a really long time since I’ve been happy. Since someone gave a damn,” all you want to do is turn your head, hide, but you can’t. Not with Nick, “I go back there. Where people leave their babies and everyone’s heart gets broken one way or another,” he leans forward, using the sleeve of his flannel to wipe the few tears that dared to fall, “I worry it’s gonna be like that again. That I’m gonna be alone.”

He’s looking at you, unreadable, before they fell back on the page. He writes slowly, deliberately, seeming to consider not just every word but every letter. You have to be patient, but every second waiting is another spent anxious. He reads it over and holds it out. You hesitate before taking it.

 **You were alone. You shouldn’t be. You shouldn’t ever be alone.** You take a deep breath, there’s more, you can feel him watching you. **Not as long as I’m alive.**

You wipe at your own face this time but it’s not enough. They come slowly. Big, heavy drops that almost tickle as they roll down your cheeks. You drop the pad, trying to cover your face, and finding his hands have beat your own. He leans over you, eye to eye, forehead against yours. You want to call him a liar, hide, but it feels freeing to be vulnerable, if only with him. If only now. What you really want is to let yourself want. To hope and need and love. Instead, you let yourself cry. He doesn’t move when your white-knuckled grip holds his flannel. He doesn’t move till the tears have ended and the sniffles that wrinkled your nose with them. He pulls back, just enough to meet your eyes once more as his thumb traced the bottom curve of your lip. Soft and asking. You aren’t quite sure, no one’s ever asked or been so tender. It feels like how your first time should have-

He taps your lips, shaking his head, imploring you to come back to the here and now. You press your lips to the pad of his thumb. He smiles, his free hands trace the curve of your neck. Only when your lips meet his do you finally let your eyes flutter closed. It’s just a kiss on a front porch and that’s exactly all it needs to be. You shift, on arm holding yourself up, running the other along his shoulder. Coming quickly to rest on his chest over his rapidly beating heart. His hand disappears only to turn into an arm wrapping around your waist, knowing if he pulled you any closer you’d be in his lap. Which would be half bad but not here. Not yet. You’re both perfectly to content to kiss, just like this. Till the sunset, pressing no further than the slightest opening of lips and barest dancing of tongues. It’s you who pulls away, hear the house come to life with pre-bed activity. He’s clearly disappointed, trying to catch your lips again. You smile as you lean back and point at the doorway.

“She’ll be out to get us if we don’t get in there soon,” looking just as put out as he felt, “We are up early tomorrow after all.

He nodded, swiping the pas up as he climbed to his and offered his hand. You smiled, it and letting him pull you up. You expected him to let go but he didn’t. Gripping tightly, as if he never intended to let go again.


End file.
